


ghosts

by ixiterum (orphan_account)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Character Study, Dragon Age II - Act 3, Gen, Introspection, just a small one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ixiterum
Summary: just when i thought i could not be stopped, when my chance came to be kingthe ghosts of my life blow wilder than the windfenris thinks for a second about his life before drinking himself into a stupor





	ghosts

“I care about you” is still not enough. 

Is the pile of bodies he has to stand upon not orders of magnitude larger than a room that contains all who care? That room would be fucking minuscule compared to the wading he would have to do through seas of corpses to open the door. The key could be in his hand, he could put it in the lock, and even still a river of blood would slowly trickle from between the tumblers. Fenris saw himself floating in the ocean of sorrows and death in the Fade, in dreams. That damned place. He could recognize some of the faces he had to kill to stay above water. Insignificant faces. Not Danarius or Hadriana, or his sister. Clear as a starry sky were the features of bandits on the Wounded Coast that looked too young to be in such company. He could even recall rebel mages, escaping the Circle with vivacious and frightened eyes. For a moment, he could even understand them. Pity them. They wanted freedom, even if they didn’t understand the cost. Still, despite a cost, was it not respectable to want to be free? 

He was a stranger to his neighbors. The mansion was the quietest on the street, if not the district. No lavish parties, no banquets, only occasional nights of games and wine funded by adventuring spoils (Hawke didn’t keep all that money, there was no way Isabela would let them) could occasionally trickle like a heavy, dark syrup under the front door. He could suppose the people he drank with and bested at cards were his friends. The matter is still whether or not that’s true. 

Another bottle down on a starless evening. Another thought about what could have been.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven’t written for a fandom besides jjba for a long while lmfao it feels kinda weird


End file.
